A Most Unusual Passage
Copyright© 2026 by J&J
Chapter 17
Martha and I sat holding hands in the nearly deserted emergency waiting room, feeling lost and forgotten. The noisy busy ball of green scrubs, swarming over Marcus like ants on a piece of candy, had rolled like a single organism through those doors with the big sign MEDICAL STAFF ONLY. Did anyone even know we were here?
“Mrs. Martel, are either of you Mrs. Martel?” The speaker was a stocky, officious looking woman in a pseudo-nurse’s uniform.”
“I’m Martha Martel.”
The woman pulled up a chair. “I’m Susan Meeks, hospital business office. I really hate to trouble you at a time like this, but the paperwork, you know.” She produced the usual clipboard full of history, insurance and financial information forms. Her feeble attempt to convey how much she regretted having to intrude with these mundane matters just made it even clearer that she didn’t really mind at all.
And for once, neither did her victims. Even filling out insurance forms was better than the limbo of isolation we had been in. I noticed that Martha had taken a card with neat, handwritten notes out of her purse.
“It’s Marcus’ medical history, doctor, insurance and all, just for occasions like this,” she explained. “I made up cards for both of us, and we each carry a set. Just part of getting older, I guess.”
“And very smart and well organized, Mrs. Martel.” The voice startled us, and we looked up to see a handsome man in a scrub suit. He knelt in front of Martha. “I’m Dr. Russ Harley, and I’ll be taking care of your husband. He’s stable, and I’m optimistic that he will recover. He is still unconscious, as a result of a severe concussion. Who did the nice job of immobilizing?”
“I did,” I replied; “I’ve had training.”
“I gathered that, and also from the way you reported vital signs. Good job, and a good call on the board. He did have a bad hyperextension, what we call a hangman’s injury to the neck. Because you immobilized it, it should heal without a problem, although he will have to wear what is commonly called a horse collar for a few weeks. If he had been carelessly handled, the injury could have been a lot more serious.”
Martha touched my arm and mouthed, “Thank you.”
“We have one more problem that worries me the most. He has some bleeding in the subdura, that’s the tough lining under the skull. It’s not real big, and I think now that we’ve treated him to counteract the anticoagulant effect of the aspirin, the bleeding will stop. However the clot is taking up space and increasing pressure in his skull, which is exactly what we don’t need, because the brain is already swelling due to the concussion. I want to get your permission to drill a small hole to draw off the clot and relieve that pressure. Hopefully that’s all we’ll need to do. It’s a fairly minor procedure with minimal risk.
Now, just in case the bleeding does not stop on its own, I’d like your permission to perform a different surgical procedure where we cut out a small block of skull; tie off the vessels that are bleeding; then draw off the clot. It sounds worse than it is. The skull heals fairly quickly, and except for a small scar under the scalp, it’s like it never happened. This form lists every possible risk and complication; you should read it carefully before signing. Can I answer any questions?”
“Doctor Harley, I’m not going to read all this; it would only scare me, and it wouldn’t tell me what I want to know. I have just two questions for you. Do you know your job?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do. And I’ve treated many injuries like this successfully.”
“Do you believe these procedures are in my husband’s best interest?
“Yes, ma’am I do. I’m not saying I can guarantee there are no risks.”
“Good, because if you did, I’d ask for another doctor. Son, life’s a risk; you go in there, and use your knowledge and skill, and do the best job you know how.” She signed the form and handed it to him. “Let the Good Lord worry about the outcome.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Martel; I will.” He rose and walked purposefully back through those doors marked MEDICAL STAFF ONLY.
“You sure didn’t have many questions,” I said.
“You are the one who reminded me tonight that trust can’t be halfway.”
We sat there again in solitude, the few people in the waiting room being strangers. I had no idea that our isolation would last only as long as it took Hazel to get on the phone and for people to drive the 37 miles to Brush.
First to arrive were George and Brenda who rushed to embrace Martha. I discretely took this moment to retreat to the coffee shop and give them some private family time. I was still sitting there when George and Brenda came looking for me.
“Ms. Manigault, we’ve never actually met. I’m Marcus’ son George and this is my wife, Brenda.”
“I noticed the resemblance. I’m glad you’re here. But please, call me Elizabeth.”
“According to Mom, we have a great deal to thank you for,” George said. “I believe she thinks you can walk on water.”
“Martha is sweet, but she is giving me too much credit. I’m just glad I’m trained to deal with this type of injury.”
“Well, I think you’re too modest, but thank you anyway. I’m getting coffee; anyone else?”
Brenda and I both shook our heads. Brenda lingered behind.
“You know she already thinks of you as her best friend,” said Brenda, “I hope that you are comfortable with that; I mean, I know there is quite an age difference.”
I realized that Brenda was actually afraid that her mother-in-law was forming an attachment that was not reciprocated, that I might be only interested in friends my own age.
“It’s more than all right, Brenda; I love Martha to pieces, and she’s as good a girl friend as I could wish for. We had a ball in Denver. As far as any age difference, I sometimes think she’s younger at heart than I am.”
Brenda smiled. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have butted in.”
“It’s OK; you were just looking out for family. And speaking of which, we shouldn’t leave Martha alone, should we?”
Brenda laughed. “Oh, I hardly think she’s alone, Elizabeth. In fact I doubt if she’ll be alone again until Marcus is home safe and sound.”
I went back to the waiting room. Fancy and Hazel and some other women I didn’t know were hovering around Martha. There were more in the waiting room. I looked out the door, and there were men standing on the front stoop.
I turned to Brenda. “What in hell’s going on; it looks like the whole town of Otis is here.”
Brenda laughed. “Not quite, but you have to remember that Marcus was like a second father to almost everyone growing up in Otis in the last fifty years, and that’s just about everybody.”
“How did they know? It’s the middle of the night, and we just got here.”
“You stopped and told Hazel the whole story. Telling Hazel anything is like telling the world. She called some folks before hopping in her car; they called folks, and so on. Just wait; you may see the whole town yet.”
“But we’re forty miles from Otis.”
Brenda turned and looked at me. “Elizabeth, I’m not sure you really understand how literally I mean second father. Being a principal in Otis is entirely different from what you’re probably used to. It’s almost like he adopts those eighty children. And besides, we’re used to going 40 miles to the supermarket, or to have a dinner out.”
“I’ve had to get used to a lot of things here, believe me.”
“Well, get used to being the center of attention,” she whispered. I believe you’re drawing a crowd.”
I looked up and realized we were surrounded by people who started introducing themselves. They were all extremely polite and friendly, but I’m afraid I don’t remember anyone I met that night. My mind was on poor Martha and whatever was going on behind those doors marked MEDICAL STAFF ONLY.
George finally came to my rescue. “Elizabeth, Mother keeps asking for you.”
I excused myself and hurried to her side. She smiled gratefully and took my hand. The people around her opened up to make room and seemed to accept my special status as her friend. I just sat there quietly with her.
As the waiting room filled up with people, I could see that Susan Meeks, the obnoxious petty hospital administrator, was getting more and more agitated. I nudged Martha and motioned with my head.
“Can you take care of her?” she whispered. “I don’t want a scene.”
I went over to her desk. “I can see this is bothering you. Can I do something to help?”
“You can get all of these people out of my waiting room.”
“Now, Ms. Meeks, I don’t believe it’s actually YOUR waiting room; it’s a public waiting room. As long as these people behave and don’t exceed the fire marshal’s limit, there probably isn’t anything you can do, is there?”
She glared, but she didn’t contradict me.”
“I thought not, but I can see where it’s a little crowded, especially if you were to get another case in. If we limit it to immediate family and ten visitors at a time in the waiting room, will you relax and be nice and polite to everyone?”
Mrs. Meeks gave me her best plastic smile. “I like to think I’m always pleasant to our visitors, but of course if you cooperate and keep a manageable number of people in the waiting room at one time, I will be able to give them more individual attention and be at my very best.”
I smiled back equally insincerely. “Of course, that’s what I meant.”
I went back and explained that we needed to keep the number of visitors in the waiting room limited to ten at a time, in order to avoid creating a commotion. Everyone agreed that was reasonable, and one of the visitors from the sheriff’s department volunteered to direct traffic. It worked better all around, and I think it took a lot of pressure off Martha to act as hostess. Some people went home after talking to Martha and realizing that there wasn’t likely to be much news before morning. Others arrived to take their place. I was exhausted and emotionally drained and couldn’t imagine how Martha must feel. But she had time to talk to everyone, and was unfailingly gracious and kind. She always thanked them for taking the time to come and promised to tell Marcus. Indeed, she had Fancy keeping a careful guest book.
It was well after midnight when I saw Dr. Harley reenter the waiting room. He looked around at all the people and waited. They all immediately stepped quietly outside, and I started to follow them, but Martha held me back.
He came over and knelt as before and said, “Mrs. Martel, could I get you both to join me for a cup of coffee?”
Martha stiffened just perceptibly. Dr. Harley smiled reassuringly. “No, no. ‘Join me for a cup of coffee’ is NOT some kind of doctor’s code for ‘I’ve got bad news for you.’ ‘Join me for a cup of coffee’ is a code for ‘I damn sure need a cup of coffee.’”
Martha laughed. “I guess I am would up pretty tight. By all means, let’s get that coffee, but I’ll make mine decaf.”
Dr. Harley escorted us into the deserted coffee shop where the single attendant greeted him warmly. She asked Martha, “This one taking care of your husband, ma’am?”
“Yes, he is.”
“Well, I’m glad. Your husband must be a hell of a good man to get all these people out here from Otis in the middle of the night. I was hoping he’d do OK. Well, he’s got the best we have. They don’t come no better than Doc Harley, here. Just wanted you to know that. Put up your money; coffee’s on me. Your tea; too, ma’am.” The last she said to me; she’d obviously learned my habits.
I looked at Dr. Harley who was visibly blushing and arched an eyebrow. “You seem to have an admirer.”
“I’m a big tipper.”
We sat down at a table. Martha and I looked expectantly at Dr. Harley. He seemed to be composing his thoughts. “Mrs. Martel,” he began.
She put her hand on his arm to stop him. “Before we even start, I’ve entrusted you with my husband’s life, I think that means you can call me Martha.”
“Will you call me Russ?”
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